Volume 2: The Middle Years
by JD11
Summary: Then he's gone. There's something extremely final in the way he spoke, in the kiss he gave her. He's never coming back. Tears stream down her face but she remains quiet. Looking out into the darkness, she calls quietly, "Goodbye, Nikola. Good luck."
1. Late Spring, 1902  Summer, 1913

Sequel to 'Volume 1: The Source Blood'.

/-/-

**Volume 2: The Middle Years**

/-/- **Late Spring, 1902**

Nikola watches Helen for a moment as she stares out her window. Then she looks to him and he steps closer to her.

"You've just found out that you're never going to age, that you'll potentially live for hundreds, if not thousands of years." His voice grows softer, "You're realizing that all your family, all your friends, the man at the butchers, the people who walk passed you on the streets, the trolley driver- all of them, will die while you live on." His voice trails off and his gaze falls over the city. Helen doesn't say anything; she just watches, waiting for him to come back to the present. When he does, it's rather abrupt. He blinks and turns his head sharply to look at her. "Doesn't it terrify you?"

"Some days. I haven't been living with it for very long, honestly."

"Right." He looks back through the window. When he starts talking, his voice is low, almost whispery. "It was exciting at first, I have to admit, to think that I would live for life times. I can't even comprehend how much I'll be able to accomplish. The legacies I'll leave behind. But when my oldest sister died a few years ago, it started to sink in. My other two sisters will eventually fade away. As will Nigel and even James, despite his best efforts." He looks at her again. "And you, I thought."

There's a beauty about Nikola that Helen notices as she looks at him now. It might have something to do with the way his face softens as he looks at her, the way the lines around his eyes wrinkle upwards or how his lips relax into a half smile. But it's definitely his eyes, the way they look at her like nothing else matters, devotion at its purest.

Almost of its own accord, her hand reaches out to take his. He looks down to watch as their fingers intertwine and she smiles at him. "Maybe it is frightening me and maybe all that will sink in soon but... It's not so scary knowing that I'll always have my best friend with me."

/-/- **Summer, 1913**

"To the destruction of some of the most disgusting looking termites I have ever seen!" Nikola pronounces as he pours wine into Helen's glass. "And maybe they be gone forever!" Helen laughs and raises her glass to that. Nikola smiles at her over the rim of his glass, then swallows a healthy portion of his wine. "I feel like we should name them... termiticus! Termitici..."

"Nikola, sometimes I honestly think you get drunk on life, rather than alcohol now."

"Not drunk on life," he says and plops down unceremoniously onto the couch beside her. "Drunk on your presence."

"Oh god, stop it now."

"That was a compliment."

"And a horribly pathetic one at that."

Nikola takes another sip of wine. Awkwardly he readjusts himself so that his feet hang over the coffee table and his back is arched comfortably off the cushions.

"I should scold you for putting your feet on my table."

"But you won't because you know you find me irresistibly sexy." He flashes a dazzling smile at her as he holds his wine glass just off to the side of his face. She barely hides a blush as she shakes her head at him.

"Actually I'm not going to because you've just volunteered to be my footrest." With that, she swings her legs up and lays them over his lap. Nikola is, for a moment, unsure of what to do, but then he leans off to the right and rests his glass on the table next to an electric lamp. He must admit that he likes the look of these new straighter, skinnier dressed on Helen – much more flattering. Today she wears a white skirt, stripped vertically with black lines. The jacket tailored almost like a man's suit, but cut to flatter the hips and waist. He focuses on his hands as they slide the hem of her skirt up to her knee.

"Nikola!"

She tries to bat his hands away but he looks up at her and grins, and slaps her hands away. "Shush. I'm just trying to help." He pulls on the lace of her boots, which is up near her knee. It comes free easily and he pulls the strings loose until he can easily take the one boot off. She sighs a little bit and flexes her toes, before hiking her skirt up a bit more, making it easier for him to get to the second set of laces. He's trying not to let her see his smile while he removes the second, albeit with a bit more difficulty this time.

"Better?" He sets the second boot down next to its partner and she nods.

"Thank-you."

"And you thought I was going to take advantage of you! I'm deeply hurt." His smirk reveals that's he's absolutely not.

"You'll get over it."

Nikola leans back over to get his wine and sips idly while Helen lounges back into the plush armrest. They're quiet for a time, during which Nikola's hand finds itself resting on top of Helen's stocking clad foot.

"So how's the new guy working out?" Nikola speaks softly.

Helen hums against the cushions, then says, "All right so far. Still rather... jumpy."

Nikola nods and presses his thumb in the ball of Helen's foot. He starts to rub gently as he speaks, "So you think he'll work out?"

"Yeah. I suppose so. That feels nice."

"I don't know how you women manage to stand in those shoes all day. They just keep getting worse as the years go by."

"At least we've moved past bustles."

"Yeah." Nikola's fingers stop moving for a moment as he looks up into space. "I never did understand what those were for." Helen laughs and he looks over at her, offended. But she just nods her head and smiles at him. "Thankfully men's fashion has remained, largely, completely untouched. I prefer it that way."

"Of course you would. What vampire has time to take over the world AND keep apprised of the latest fashions!"

"Precisely! I'm glad that you understand the hardships I face in life." Nikola smiles at the snort that escapes Helen. Absently, his hand changes its attention to Helen's right foot. She sighs again and relaxes a little more into the armrest.

They fall silent again, as Nikola's thumb massages Helen's foot. Some time later, she takes another sip of wine. Nikola gestures to her glass and asks, "Would you like some more?"

She looks down to see that it's empty. There's a slight frown on her face but then she sighs and shakes her head. "No. No, I should get to bed." As she speaks, she drops her feet back onto the ground; Nikola copies her, then leans forward to place his glass where his feet just were.

"Retiring so soon?"

"Soon? Nikola, it must be two in the morning, at least. While I might not need much sleep, I do require some."

"Hmm."

Helen rises to her feet and Nikola quickly follows, still ever the proper gentleman. "Let me walk you to your room."

"You don't have to-"

"Of course I do." He picks up her boots and holds them in his left hand, offering his right arm to her. "Shall we?" She laughs at his silliness, but thanks him and takes his extended elbow in her hand. He smiles over at her, and slightly down, now that she's a few inches shorter without her heels.

It wasn't a very long walk from her office to the east wing where all the rooms were housed, but they made good use of their time as Nikola animatedly recounted their most recent mission of termite exterminating, describing her face as she first saw them and the way Alistair screeched like a little girl when one of them crawled over his foot. He made her giggle and that was a job well done in his book.

"Well," Nikola sighs when they reach her door. "I suppose it is goodnight."

"Yes, I suppose it is."

She leans against doorframe, one hand on the handle. He smiles awkwardly at her then remembers her boots in his hands. "Oh, here."

"Thanks." She takes them from him and holds them limply at her side. "Goodnight."

Nikola opens his mouth to say something, however he closes it immediately after. He looks off to his right and rocks forward onto the balls of his feet as he thinks. When he looks back at her, her eyes have fallen half shut with drossiness and he, for a moment, he feels guilty keeping her awake.

"I just wanted to say... Thank-you."

"For what?"

"Letting me work with you again."

"Why wouldn't I? Nikola, you're my friend, and you're too brilliant to keep locking yourself away."

"I'm doing work while I'm locked away."

"Yes, I know. But you can do just as magnificent work here."

"Of course." He rocks again. "I have missed it."

"Missed what?"

"Working with you. Working with abnormals. It's nice."

"I've missed you too."

She surprises him then by leaning forward and kissing the corner of his mouth. The kiss is chaste and short and when she leans back, she has the decency to blush and look away. But Nikola just smiles.

"Missed me a lot, it looks like?"

"You're my best friend. Of course I have."

The last time she had called him her best friend, they were standing hand in hand looking out of her bedroom window over London. He had wanted to kiss her then, to seal his promise that he would always be there for her. But, like the coward he always was, he didn't dare. Tonight though, he didn't feel like quite so much of a coward. Perhaps he was drunk on life, because tonight he steps closer and holds Helen's gaze. Her brows knit closer together as he starts leaning towards her, but she doesn't move away or raise a hand to his chest, and he takes that as a positive sign. Then he's kissing her, gently at first as he gains courage. When he hears her boots thump on the floor and feels her fingers tangling through his hair, he gets the incentive he needs to deepen the kiss. He nips at her lip, gently though to keep from hurting her, then runs his tongue along hers. It's when he hears her moan that he stops and smirks at her.

"I guess I should have done that a long time ago?"

"Goodnight, Nikola."

"Goodnight? I thought we were just getting started."

She cocks an eyebrow at that statement and pokes his chest. "You should retire to you room."

He ignores her advice and instead brings his lips to her ear. "Are you certain that's what you want?"

"Nikola..." her voice trails away into a sigh when he kisses just under her ear. "Please don't do this."

He moves so he can see her. She won't look at him; he cups her face in his hand, strokes her check with his thumb. "Don't do what?"

"Play around like this."

"I'm not playing." He kisses her again; his hand snakes around to her neck, holding her there.

She's breathless when he releases her lips. He kisses her jaw up to her ear, then kisses the soft spot below her ear, hoping to make her moan. And he does. She wraps both hands around his neck and leans into him. "I love you, Helen," he whispers into her ear. She leans back, not sure how sincere he is. He sees the questions in her eyes as the words form on her lips. He kisses her again, keeping her from speaking.

Helen's hand fumbles for the doorknob and shakily she manages to twist it opened. She pulls at his vest to lead him forward and he holds her hips, keeping her close to him and guiding her around the door. Inside, she undoes his tie and Nikola kicks the door closed.

She's already got his vest and shirt undone before he has any idea where to start on her outfit. She lets out a deep and throaty laugh, then clings to his vest as she lifts up onto her toes and purrs into his ear, "Really, Nikola, it's not that complicated." Then she releases him and steps back. She takes her time with the five buttons on her coat. His eyes, which have now darkened more than the average male's, watch her hands intently. The jacket slides over her shoulders and crumples to the floor. His eyes flicker down towards it and then back to her. Her skirt is much easier; one button and it's loose enough to drop to the floor.

"Close your mouth; it makes you look mildly unattractive."

He bristles with the tease, but then smirks at her and steps closer. "I highly doubt there's anything that could possibly make me look unattractive."

There's a playful glint in her eyes as she raises a brow at him, one hand pulling lose her own, slimmer tie. "Oh really? Nothing?"

"Certainly nothing could make you unattractive." He steps closer and she pokes a finger in his chest, keeping him at bay. He looks down in annoyance at her finger, but is quickly distracted when she begins unbuttoning her shirt. He watches for a few minutes before pulling his vest and shirt off in one motion. He discards his shoes quickly after, just as the blouse slides down Helen's arms.

"Why must you women wear so many clothes?"

"To tease men."

"Well you're doing much too good of a job of it." He moves forward quickly and captures her lips again. He pulls randomly at the strings and ties while her hands work in the front to undo her corset. Eventually she's naked against him and glances down at her between kissing her jaw and neck and shoulders. "You're beautiful."

Soon after, he lays her on her bed and rides himself of the rest of his clothing before joining her. He holds himself above her, their bodies just barely touching. Helen reaches up and strokes his cheek, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Kiss me." He does as she asks, keeping the kiss tender. Her leg wraps around his while their lips are still locked together and carefully moves inside of her, giving her the time she needs to adjust to him.

No words pass between them. The only sounds in the quiet room are the mingling of their pants and the hushed sighs of pleasure as Nikola rocks against Helen. She keeps one hand against his back, her nails occasionally digging into his skin as she gets closer. The other plays in his hair or strokes his cheek. He keeps smiling down at her and stealing kisses between moans.

When he feels her clenching against him, seizing in pleasure, he spills himself inside of her. Spent, he collapses onto her breasts and pants against her flushed skin. Helen plays with his hair, eyes closed, content.

"I really do love you, Helen."

"I know. I know you do."


	2. Late Fall, 1922

/-/- **Late Fall, 1922**

"Why is he just standing down there?"

Helen looks over to James, who is standing near the window, peering out at the street below. "Who?"

"Nikola. He was meant to be here nearly an hour ago. Now he's just standing outside. I've heard he's going insane."

"He's not insane, James, he's battling to suppress his natural instinct." Even as she says this, she moves closer to the window. James is right; Nikola is standing, dressed classily in his normal suit, vest, and tie, staring at the building's door. "I'm going to go see what's wrong."

"Are you sure?"

"James, he's still our friend."

"Yes. Of course."

"If we don't come inside, I'll see you later tonight. Don't worry; I won't stay out too late."

Once she makes it to the front door, she stops and feels Nikola's gaze directly on her. But his eyes are glazed over and he doesn't notice her until she speaks. "Nikola? What are you doing just standing out here?"

He shakes his head a little and focuses on her. When his mind clears a little and he sees her properly, a slow smile spreads over his face. "Hello, Helen." She smiles back at him and walks down the stairs towards him. "Sorry, I... I've been trying to go in for nearly an hour now, I just..." He takes a deep breath. "Even walking around the building three times didn't help."

"So the rumours are true?"

"That I'm going insane? No... Well perhaps." He smiles so that his canines are showing.

"What's wrong?"

"Same as ever. All those humans. All that blood."

She steps closer to him carefully, not wanting to startle him. Her hand brushes over his and gently her fingers wrap around his palm, her thumb stroking the back of his hand. "Would you like to take a walk with me? It's a beautiful night."

"Absolutely."

Helen picks a direction at random and they walk down Bartholomew Street for a while.

"How's work going?"

"Well. How's New York?"

"Same as always."

"You're growing tired of it."

"Not yet."

"You can always move back here to London."

He huffs a little and shrugs. "Maybe."

Their conversation drifts to the latest abnormal Helen has been trying to help and Nikola's work on a flying machine he's been working on. He tells her about New York City and the places he enjoys visiting and the park bench he often sits at when working on an idea. Helen talks about Joseph, one of her newest workers, who's a decently clever inventor, has a witty British sense of humour, and makes the best chocolate pudding, according to Helen.

"Mark keeps telling me that I need –" He stops when he sees her shiver and rub her hands up and down her arms. "You're cold. I'm sorry – I don't really notice the weather any more. We should... we should go back to my hotel. It's nearby."

"It's all right, Nikola. Perhaps I should return home."

"No." He catches himself before sounding to desperate. "No, please, I've missed you. Don't want the night to end, I guess."

She smiles sweetly and wraps her arm through his. "Very well then, bring me to your place."

"Is that a proposition? I was just offering tea."

"Shut up." He laughs and turns them down to the left.

As the approach the hotel, Nikola takes her up the marble staircase. The bellhop pulls open the door and bows slightly towards Nikola. "Good evening, Mr. Tesla, Miss."

"Doctor," Nikola corrects the bellhop with a slight nod, "Doctor Magnus."

"Excuse me, Doctor."

"It's all right. Have a good night."

Two men sat off to the left, sitting near the fire in oversized leather chairs and smoking cigars. Other than them, the lobby is quiet in the late evening. Nikola steers them over to the desk, where the manager is busy already finding Nikola's room key.

"No messages since you left, sir. Here you are," he hands over the key. "Have a good night, sir."

"Thank-you, Walter."

They head for the elevator, key in hand. Helen glances over her shoulder at the manager as they wait. Nikola looks at her, then back to see the elevator has arrived.

"What is it?" Nikola asks as he slides opened the first of the elevator doors.

Helen leans up against him, holding tighter to his arm. "They both think we're heading up to your room to spend the night together."

Half way through pushing the second door open, Nikola turns his head to look at her, slightly scandalized. "They do not."

They enter the elevator as Helen replies. "Do too. The manager had this gleam in his eyes when he looked between us and the way the way the bellhop said 'miss'... Do you bring women here often?"

"Of course not. Helen, I resent that."

"Because I've heard around that you have a reputation for being celibate."

"I'm not celibate. I just..."

"What?"

"I just don't like being alone with people."

"You're alone with me quite often. Nikola, you have astonishing control over yourself, you needn't be afraid around others."

"I have control around you. You – and the others of the Five – make me feel calm."

She smiles at him, but doesn't know what to say. They stay silent until they reach the sixth floor. They make it to Nikola's room, 627, shortly after. Nikola lets his jacket fall off his arms and drapes it over the chair near the door. "Please, have a seat. Can I get you something? Um... I could call down to room service."

"No, thank-you." She says absently as she wonders through the living area and towards the coffee table cluttered with papers. "What's this?"

"Hmm?" Nikola steps closer. "Just some notes."

"Notes? Nikola, these are schematics. Since when do you make notes like this?"

"It's a new habit. I'm testing it out."

"And?"

"I kind of hate it. It slows me down."

"Are these your death ray – sorry, peace ray ideas?"

Nikola rolls his eyes and turns away again. Helen keeps shuffling through the sketches.

"Ouch."

In a second, Nikola's nose flares, the scent of iron filling his sense. His head snaps to the left and his hand snatches her wrist. He startles her by being so close so suddenly. When she looks up to his face, she sees that he's staring down at the red streaming down from the tip of her finger. She stands stiff in response, watching him carefully, tensing her muscles even as she tries not to pull away.

When he looks up at her, there's a smirk playing on the right side of his face and his eyes are bright and grey. They're dilated, but not the icy black she expected.

Helen pulls back on her hand sharply, but Nikola only tightens his grip. She catches his gaze and he cocks an eyebrow at her. "Do you trust me?"

"Of course." Her voice is sturdy and confident, but even as she says it she's watching him wearily. He takes a step closer to her. Slowly he raises her hand to his lips. He watches her and she watches her hand and then his tongue as it strokes its way along the length of her pointer finger, cleaning it of blood. When he reaches her fingertip, his eyes fall closed and he sucks her finger clean of the sweet substance.

He holds her hand in front of his lips; she can feel his warm breath against her fingers. He seems dazed, like he's become intoxicated from a simple taste of blood. She just watches him, not sure why her heart is pounding so loudly. She shouldn't be so intrigued.

Then he opens his eyes and they've gone black. She stiffens and tries to pull away but he's much too strong. Almost immediately though she relaxes under his soft smile. His hand loosens, letting her relax under his gaze. Then he steps even closer, leaving no room between them. When she looks in his face, she sees something she's never noticed before: the flushing of his cheeks, an electricity in his eyes, even in their darkness, a confidence in his stance. Just a taste of her blood has got his heart pumping faster and left him slightly breathless.

Suddenly he's kissing her like he never has before. He's rough, pushing his body against hers and holding his hand behind her head to keep her from breaking away. She moans, mostly out of surprise, but when he doesn't stop, and in fact grows bolder, her moan becomes one of pleasure. She digs her hands into his hair, tugging just enough for him to feel it as she starts to kiss him in return. Then her hands drop down to rip at his jacket, to pull him closer and shove it over his shoulders. He drops his hands from where they played in her hair, but only long enough to shake the material away, then his hands are on her hips, holding her close to him. She's focused on his vest and shirt, trying to pull free every button, until finally she finds smooth skin and surprisingly solid muscle.

Nikola nips at her lip; she can feel his teeth have sharpened some, but she doesn't care and scratches her nails the length of his abs. A growl comes from deep in his chest. He wraps one arm around her, pulling her tight against him, then walks them hurriedly backwards until she's flush against the wall and he's towering over her, looking down at her with dark eyes.

He runs his hand from her knee up, forcing the material of her dress out of his way, all while his lips devour her neck and lower still to the exposed cleavage. He straightens and presses up against her, kissing her until she's breathless, using the distraction to pull the layers of her skirt out of his way. Helen tips her head back against the wall, panting for breath, as Nikola kisses her jaw. He runs his hand up her thigh, searching until it found her centre. One finger runs over her lightly, feeling her damp heat. She moans and tilts her head to the side as Nikola kisses her neck. Her eyes fall closed as he kisses, as his teeth graze over her neck.

Then she feels it, just how sharp his teeth are, as he kisses the pounding artery in her neck. Immediately she stiffens against the wall and her eyes fly open.

But then his finger dips inside of her and she moans into his ear and arches against the wall. She tangles her fingers into his hair and tips her head to the side, giving him access to her pale neck. Her nails dig into his scalp just as his teeth sink into her neck. There's pain, but it's less like the sharp sting of needles she expected, and more like fire. Fire burning her skin, coursing through her veins, warmth spreading everywhere and making her fingers and toes tingle. Her legs feel completely useless and she knows only the pressure of his body is holding her against the wall still.

Vaguely she thinks that she should be concerned by how much blood he's drinking, but the sensations flowing through her body make it impossible to care.

Then he stops and a low growl echoes in her ear. She can feel his jaw tighten as it rests against her cheek. She wonders how hard it was for him to stop but then his tongue runs over the bites, soothing them and removing the last remnants of blood from her skin, and she stops caring. His fingers slide out of her and she groans and pouts at him. He's smirking at her and kisses her quickly before he tries, somewhat roughly, to undo his trousers with one hand. The loss of part of his strength has Helen feeling like she might collapse and so she grips his opened shirt for support, then pulls him to her and kisses him hard on the lips. She feels a bit dizzy but her clit is pounding with need and that's all she can think about.

He pulls her up and wraps her legs around his waist and thrusts inside of her. His pace isn't slow, but nor is it fast enough for her. She can't think. She digs her nails into his shoulders and moans against his mouth, kisses him, scratches his neck.

He breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against hers. Their breath mingles as he watches her, smiles. Then his pace quickens and grows more desperate as he gets closer. Helen's still looking into his eyes; they're completely black still, but it doesn't scare her. Gently she strokes his check – his warm, human skin – she trusts him completely.

Then he's rubbing against her clit perfectly and she can't help but let out a gasp. Her head tips back and he takes that as an invitation to kiss her neck again. His movements become more frantic and she can feel his teeth sharpening again, dragging across her neck. She doesn't even think, just leans her head to the side again, offering to give him more, but he doesn't bite, just kisses.

When she comes, she moans loudly into his ear and grips his shoulders almost painfully. He kisses her, still slamming inside of her, desperate for his own release. Finally a strangled groan escapes him and his forehead collapses into her neck.

They stand there a while – or rather, Nikola stands there, his hands on her hips and her legs around his, her skirt pulled up around them, his shirt unbuttoned and pushed out of the way, her arms wrapped around his neck and his body keeping her crushed between him and the wall.

When their hearts finally calm and their breathing returns to normal, Nikola looks at her. His eyes have almost returned to normal; still mostly black, just a rim of grey coming through. Helen smiles at him and strokes his check, kisses him gently. Then she unwraps her legs and he helps her feet find the floor. She's unsteady at first and he holds hips for a moment. Nikola watches her with a slight leer as she adjusts her skirt and covers herself.

"Aren't you going to get dressed?"

Nikola sighs and starts to adjust his trousers. "I was hoping this might lead to getting completely undressed."

"Not tonight." He smirks at what she's suggests in her tone and begins buttoning his shirt back up. Helen, meanwhile, has moved towards a mirror on the far wall. "Oh... How am I going to cover this up?"

"Cover it up?" Nikola turns, shirt tails still sticking out on the left side. "Worried about what your little employees will think?" She turns and glares at him, but he just shrugs in response. Then he smirks and saunters towards her. "Just say you got into a little… fight with an abnormal." He wraps his arms around her waist and looks over her shoulder at her reflection in the mirror, "They'll believe it."

"Yes, they probably would." Helen sighs and removes his hands so she can get to his closet.

As she's rummaging through his things, Nikola realizes the way she stressed her word 'they' and turns to look at her. "Oh, I forgot. Jimmy is moving back into the Sanctuary, isn't he?" He laughs. "Oh god, he's not going to like this." Helen doesn't turn to look at him, or even tease back. In fact he notices the way her shoulders start to tense. He steps closer to her. "Is this a problem?"

Helen doesn't answer. He reaches out to touch her shoulder and gently steers her in a circle to look at him. Her chin is tucked into her chest, keeping her from having to look at him. His smile has vanished. "You're ashamed of this, our… relationship."

She raises her head slowly, only half looking at him. She brings her hand to rest against his chest and rests her forehead against his. "Not ashamed, Nikola, just confused."

"I don't-" She kisses him to stop him from talking and he accepts it, leans into her touch. When she pulls away, she smiles slightly and her hand slides down his chest before she glances back to his wardrobe. "I'm stealing your coat. It should cover your bite marks."

"Sorry."

"Don't be."

The walk back is short and comfortably quiet. But the night has grown quite cold and Helen bundles herself into Nikola's coat. Thankfully the arms are too long and she uses the extra length as gloves while she holds the lapels up, protecting her face from the wind. Occasionally she glances at Nikola, who strides carelessly down the sidewalk in nothing but his vest and jacket, as if it were a lovely spring afternoon.

When they make it back to her Sanctuary, he stands besides her at the door. It's nothing like the awkward goodnights of many couples; instead Nikola holds himself with the natural cockiness that becomes him most days.

"It was extremely lovely running into you tonight."

"It was. You should move back to London permanently; I'd like to work with you again."

"Yeah. Perhaps." He leans in and kisses her check. She smiles and turns to kiss him full on the mouth just as the door is ripped opened. Both Helen and Nikola turn, startled, to see James Watson standing in the doorway, still fully dressed.

"Finally! I've up waiting for you," he says to Helen. "You were meant to back hours ago."

"Relax, Jimmy, she was with me."

James turns his focus to Nikola, his face remains stern. "And that's exactly what worried me." Nikola huffed and shifts his weight.

"James," Helen scolds before turning to Nikola. "Thank-you, Nikola. You've been a perfect gentleman tonight."

He looks down to see her hands fiddling with the buttons and stiffens suddenly. "You can keep that, Helen. I know how cold you said you were."

"Huh?" She pauses from her work with the buttons to look up at him. Nikola coughs a little and scratches his neck on purpose. "Oh," Helen's eyes light up and immediately she rebuttons the coat. "Thanks." Nikola tries not to look at James, knowing that he's certainly watching the entire exchange with his obnoxiously intuitive gaze. "Goodnight, Nikola." She smiles and gives him a peck on the cheek before walking past him and into the house.

Nikola bows his head respectfully towards James, trying to maintain some form of respect between old friends. James just kind of huffs in respond, says goodnight, and closes the door.

James watches Helen as she hurriedly heads for the stairs, still bundled in Nikola's coat. He steps closer to her. "Let me take your coat, Helen."

"No, thank-you. Nikola's right, I'm still rather cold."

"Yes, well blood loss will do that to you." Helen stops just before reaching the second stair and groans. She shakes herself for being foolish enough to try to fool James. When she turns around, she finds him right behind her, standing at the base of the stairs. He reaches up and pulls down the collar of Nikola's coat. She watches his face and waits for his reaction. At first there isn't one, but then a scowl unfolds itself and the muscles in his jaw tense. Then his eyes dart up to find hers. "He's supposed to have control over himself by now! What did he do to you?"

"Nothing!"

"Helen, I can see the evidence on your neck. He tried to feed off of you!"

"We had sex, James."

James, so taken a back, steps away from her. His eyes dark off to the side as he tries to process what she just said but he seems to shocked to understand.

"He was in complete control. I trust him; he didn't hurt me."

"He bit you."

"Yes."

"He bit you." James can't look at her for a minute. When he finds her eyes again, he says, "He bit you and took advantage of you, Helen, I don't see… I – do you want me to like him suddenly? Be happy for you? He's a vampire, Helen. An arrogant, self-centred vampire- there can't be anything more dangerous on this earth than that."

Helen takes the two steps to descend the stairs. She's holding his gaze, begging him with her eyes to remain calm, to listen to her. "I agree. If Nikola wanted to, he could be the most dangerous threat to the entire world, but he's not. I trust him, James, I'm sorry that you don't."

"I trust him enough to save my life and maybe come to my aid, if it works to his advantage, but Helen I'm worried not only for your life but for your heart. After John-"

"Stop. James, just stop."

James shuts his mouth abruptly. She can see in his eyes all the anger and confusion that he still wants to get out, but he's a loyal friend, she knows. Gently, she pats his chest and kisses his cheek. Then she turns away from him and begins ascending the stairs again, running her hand up the banister, taking each stair slowly and carefully. She pauses halfway up the stairs and turns to look at him again.

"John's gone, James. So is my father. I have no other family than you, Nigel, and Nikola. Nikola has only one sister left, slowly dying from age. Nigel... I can hardly visit him; his age bothers me too much. And you... you're suit will only last for so long, James. Someday, I will be completely alone... alone except for Nikola."

"So you make new friends, a new family."

"Who will simply grow old and die as well. Everyone else will always grow old and leave." She pauses and then looks him squarely in the eye. "I will not discuss this again. Please, James, give me that degree of respect." James hesitates for a second before nodding his head once.

Helen nods to herself and turns away. She begins to climb the stairs once again.

"Goodnight, Helen."


	3. Summer to December 31, 1942

/-/- **Summer, 1942**

No matter the vintage of wine, stuffy rich people parties were not Nikola's idea of a pleasant evening. He found the conversation dull or pointless, the food inedible, and, most importantly, the high concentration of human blood too much to handle. No, Nikola preferred to sulk in the corner with his Bordeaux. Well, he'd much prefer to not even be there, but, on this occasion, Helen had dragged him there. It was something about someone she wanted him to meet. Completely uninteresting, but he would do it for her.

As he takes a rather long sip from his glass, he hears from behind Helen say, "And this is my good friend, Nikola Tesla."

Nikola sigh; he would have liked at least a moment of preparation before being forced to endure the company of lesser mortals. He turns with a slight flourish of his hand, enough to sweep his jacket out of his way so his hand could rest on his hip. Firmly in place is a hint of arrogance on his face, over-shadowed perhaps by the cocky tilt of his head and hips. He expects nothing striking about this person, and yet what he sees is completely unexpected. Helen stood leaning against some man, both hands wrapped around his left arm. She was grinning widely and Nikola fought to hold back the scowl ready to form as he looks up to see the man she is with. He's tall – her type, of course – with curly ginger hair. Irish, or Scottish, or something. Well built. Angular face. Dressed neatly but not sharply. Nikola hates him instantly.

"Nikola, this is Professor Patrick McMillan."

"It's a pleasure, Mr. Tesla." The Scot extends his hand to Nikola, who glances down at it, then back at the man's face, and then to Helen.

"He's a professor of what, exactly?" Nikola waves his wine glass in front of him to gesture at the Scot as he speaks.

"Electrical engineering.," Patrick answers. Nikola huffs. "At the University of Edinburgh. I couldn't believe when Helen told me she is a friend of yours."

"Yes, well, Helen does have a fascinating assortment of friends."

Silence descends upon the group for a few awkward moments. Nikola shifts his weight and sips from his wine, hoping that's all he has to communicate.

"So I've been reading a lot about this death ray weapon you're working on –"

"I prefer when they call it the peace ray, however teleforce is more accurate."

"Yes, well, I was hoping you could tell me more about it. It's fascinating, theoretically."

"Do you have a question, Mr. McMillan?"

"You've stated that you have a mechanism for generating a great amount of electrical force, but how are you going to intensify that to the necessary levels?"

Helen knows that smile forming on his lips as he looks over to her. He's about to be a cocky jackass, the exact kind that lost him, and her, friends at Oxford.

"Mr. McMillan, you might have been educated in the principles of electrical engineering, but the work I've been doing recently I'm quite certain is extremely far beyond your understanding." He pauses shortly. "I think I'm going to go get more wine."

Nikola brushes passed Patrick but, after making it only a step away, he turns and addresses the pair. "And Mr. McMillan, the lady should always be on your right." His eyes catch Helen's. "Men these days, absolutely no sense of gentlemanly manners anymore."

As he walks away, Helen pats Patrick's hand and smiles apologetically at him. "I'm sorry about him. He gets moody at these sorts of things. He's really quite wonderful once you get to know him. Please excuse me for a moment. I just want to talk to him in private."

"Of course. I'll be around."

"Okay."

Helen finds Nikola a couple of minutes later, hiding on a veranda overlooking the courtyard. He's leaning one hand against the granite railing and swirling the contents of his wine glass with the other. He doesn't indicate that he hears her approaching, but she knows that he can sense her – probably the iron in her blood or at least the soft clicking of her heels.

"When did we become members of the privileged, elitist class?"

She chuckles at that and approaches the railing next to him. "When we injected vampire blood."

He looks over at her. "I thought the point of that was to do the opposite. Break barriers; create our own class?"

"Yes, until everyone realized how well it actually worked."

"We simply are too wonderful to not be invited to rich, stuffy partiers."

"These rich, stuff parties ensure that we keep getting the funding we need. Both of us," she emphasizes.

"Yes, yes." Nikola sighs and shrugs. Then he turns to look at her straight on and rests his hip against the granite. "So you and professor what's his name?"

"McMillan. And yes, he's a good man. Quite brilliant. You should speak with him; he could learn a lot from you." Nikola cringes openly at the idea of teaching anyone. "Talking to him, please."

"I'd rather not."

"Why are you being so rude to him?"

He shrugs and moves closer to her. "I don't like him."

"You don't even know him."

"I know enough."

"Enough for what?"

"To know that's he's not right for you."

"Oh please. That is not what this is about."

"Yes, it is."

"No, you're jealous." Nikola bristles. "Jealousy doesn't becomes you, Nikola, it never did."

"Yes, well, I was right about Johnny."

He's not sure what exactly just happened, it happened so fast. But in the aftermath, his face was turned to the right; his cheek stung and closet to his ears tingled; Helen stood breathing hard and her checks flushed.

"You slapped me?"

"Leave. Right now."

"The party's not over." He flashes a smile and spreads his arms out, as if charming her might achieve something. Her expression remains firm; discouraged, he pulls his arms back in closer to him. The wine sloshes but doesn't spill from the sudden jerk. "I'm sorry. My comment was out of line."

"At least have the decency to look ashamed while you lie."

"I'm not lying."

"You have always been an insensitive prick when it comes to discussing John."

"He turned into a serial killer! I think I'm allowed to judge."

"Yes, the vampire is certainly well-suited to judge murderers."

"I've never killed anyone! Which shows an exceptional degree of restraint on my part, might I add." There's a crack in her defences, a slight softeningof her eyes. Nikola's shoulders relax. "He was a bastard before he starting killing people anyway."

In a second the icy stare returns. Her arm is rigid as one finger points to he door. "Now, Nikola."

"Ok, ok."

He places his wine glass on the patio table, then bows his head gracefully before taking his leave. She can't watch him leave and so she turns away, wraps her fingers around the granite banister, and closes her eyes.

/-/- **December 31, 1942**

It's late at night; Helen walks swiftly through the dark street and to her house. As she's turning the key to unlock the door, she hears from the shadow, "Did you get my letter?"

"Nikola!" Helen holds her hand to her chest and takes a deep breath. "Don't do that."

"I'm sorry." Helen glances behind them, her eyes scanning through the dark, unlit city. "Did you?"

"Did I what?"

"Get my letter? I need help, Helen."

"Yes, yes, I got your letter."

"Will you help me?"

Helen turns towards him; he's hiding half in the shadows, making it hard to see his face. She takes off the small, leather bag resting on her shoulder and pulls from it a thick envelope. "Here. Take this."

"What is it?"

"A passport. It says you're an American –"

"I am an American."

"An American by birth. Try focusing on your accent some. You're starting to lose your Serbian accent already." He straightens sharply at that comment, but she continues on regardless. "I've got travel plans for you to make it by train to Switzerland."

"Switzerland?"

"They're neutral. You can stay there until the end of the war –"

"If there's an end to the war."

"They'll be an end."

"And then another war. How many wars are we going to live through, Helen?"

She doesn't answer, just shuts her eyes and sighs. "Please, Nikola, just get to Switzerland. Be safe."

Nikola looks down at the envelope in his hand. He doesn't know what to say for a moment, but then he shakes his head and looks up at her. "How is this going to help me exactly? Go into hiding forever?"

"No... You're eighty-six, Nikola. As it is, we've both expended an egregious amount of energy trying to maintain the appearance that you're growing older. I think it's time that... that the public believe Nikola Tesla to be –"

"Dead?"

"Yes. Start a new life, one where you don't have to be burdened with so much publicity."

"You're going to fake my death?"

"Yes." Nikola nods mutely, looking down at his feet and the envelope. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"You're asking if I have a problem with you killing me?"

She grimaces at the way he phrases it, however she shrugs. "You're right. I'm sorry. Please go, Nikola. You're train departs early in the morning."

He stands there at first not knowing what to do. There's more he wants to say, mostly concerning how much he doesn't approve of her plan. He passes the envelope between his hands and looks up at her. "Thank-you, Helen."

"You don't have to thank me."

"Yes I do," he steps out of the shadows so he's standing close to her. "Thank-you, Helen." He leans into her, his eyes on her lips, wanting to kiss her one last time, to show his appreciation. But then he sees the ting of disapproval, that tint of anger still hardening her eyes when she looks at him. When he leans even just a bit further, she turns her face away and his lips land on the corner of her mouth. He steps away quickly. His posture is hunched and he doesn't look at her again. Merely nods and plays with the envelope. "Right," he mutters. "Ok, well, thank-you. I'll send you a letter once I've made it."

"No, it's best if we do not correspond for a while."

"How long?"

"A while."

He nods once roughly then steps backwards into the shadows. "Goodbye, Helen."

Then he's gone. Helen just stands there, staring into the shadows. Her eyes close; she holds her breath. There was something extremely final in the way he spoke, in the kiss he gave her. Once it was all over, once she had officially made her longest and dearest friend dead to the world, she suspects she'll never see him again. He's never coming back. Tears stream down her face but she remains quiet, gasping in soft, quick breathes to stop from sobbing.

She slaps her hands up to her face and wipes the tears away. She sniffs and draws the back of her hand under her nose. Looking out into the darkness, she calls quietly, "Goodbye, Nikola. Good luck."

/-/-

**This is the end of the second part of my 'The Story of Nikola and Helen' series. The third part will be up in the next month or so and will be title 'Volume 3: ...' .**


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